Anne Pitkin’s third book, But Still, Music spans her childhood as a privileged white child in the Jim Crow South to the period of her grown daughter’s death. The poems visit the disquieting contradictions of a southern childhood marked by honeysuckle and lightning bugs and the racist culture that was the air she breathed. A number of poems address the loss of her daughter. Still, in the end, as she says in the final poem. “Tide, There you’ve been, loves of my life./ There you’ve changed me, one by one.